


Keepsake of the Elemental

by Geist (GeistLoL)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeistLoL/pseuds/Geist
Summary: [Old Lore] A gifted elemental mage is accepted as the newest summoner in the Institute of War. Ronan must hone his magic to control the champions of Runeterra while uncovering the secrets of his lost memories. A multi-chapter lemony adventure story. Commissioned. M for many lemons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Keepsake of the Elemental**

**Chapter 1 – Under Purple Stone**

The Institute was more than Ronan expected, but less than what he had heard from the other summoners.

Pillars of purple stone lined the great staircase that led up to its double obsidian doors, while blue flames burned in braziers on either side of the walkway. Nexus crystals were suspended with magic atop pillars that overlooked him and the air was doused with the presence of the arcane.  _A grand spectacle_  he thought, but he wasn't there for appearances.

The letter he'd received from the High Councillor had awarded him a place within the ranks of the new breed of summoners in the Institute of War. In his hand, he held the certificate of graduation he'd earnt from his previous college, filling him with confidence and desire to prove his worth. He doubted any of the newbies he'd meet would match his ability with summoning magic, or his potential for elemental manipulation. They wouldn't even come close. His previous mentor had been astonished with Ronan's quick learning and his ability to execute perfect summoning rituals. But that was all small-scale stuff compared to what awaited him here. Ronan needed something more powerful to summon than petty creatures and idols. Ronan needed a champion.

He'd seen the roster of champions at the Institute, ranging from war-bent demons of the ancient world, to gifted mages and talented inventors. Everything in between he was yet to discover. With over a hundred champions calling the Institute their home while the summoners used their powers to settle the world's debates, Ronan was sure he was going to find his match. A champion that he could channel his ability through.

With a smile on his face and a glint in the purple of his eyes, Ronan ascended the stairs and pulled open the doors.

More grandeur greeted him inside. Floors of quartz stone polished so much so that he struggled to keep himself from slipping. He wandered on through admiring the vast size of the halls and the many robed men and women milling around the area. Some contained balls of magic between their outstretched hands, with scrolls and spell books tucked under their arms.

He had been instructed to go straight to the High Councillor's office upon his arrival, but as he walked the winding halls, Ronan found himself becoming more and more lost. Everywhere looked the same, and there were no signs or indications as to where the next corridor may lead to.  _Not even a map? How is anyone meant to know their way around this place?_ he thought.

'Excuse me?' he said, trying to attract the attention of the many robed summoners as they rushed around the corridors on their business. No one stopped, most didn't even seem to hear him. They just carried on right past, maybe only sparing enough time to shoot a glare his way. He was not one of them, an outsider. One apparently they didn't want to talk to.

Ronan continued to wander the corridors aimlessly, searching for something that may lead him to the office. Eventually, the purple light of a glowing nexus crystal led him towards an end of the Institute that seemed to be less populated by summoners, and busier with official looking councillors. Their robes were darker, their hoods kept down to give view of their more mature faces. Some bore tattoos of rune magic inscribed onto their skins.

'Can you tell me where I can find the High Councillor?' Ronan asked one as they past. He was delighted when they finally stopped and looked at him, confirming that he wasn't invisible.

'A new summoner, hm?' the man said. 'You are heading in the correct direction. The door at the end of this corridor on the right will bring you to High Councillor Kolminye. You best have an appointment. She does not like her time wasted.'

Before Ronan could show off the invitation he'd received from the Institute, the man had gone. His eyes darted around in search of where he had gone, but soon they settled on the direction the man had meant. He found it, noticing the far door at the end of the corridor was gilded and framed with purple light. Obviously more important than any other it seemed.

He knocked politely before a voice inside ushered him in. Behind an ornate desk with countless scrolls splayed across it's top was the High Councillor of the Institute, Vessaria Kolminye. For the first time since arriving at the steps of the organisation, Ronan was actually impressed. Vessaria was a mature looking woman, with her mahogany hair tied in a tight bun. Her eyes were piercing and seemed alive with the flare of deep magic. When the dark irises landed on him, he felt her measuring his worth, looking into his soul and gauging his potential. She brushed her robe off as she stood to greet him.

Behind her desk, Ronan noticed a large nexus crystal floating above a blue pool of magic. It let out a low hum as the magic pulsed through the crystal.

'Ronan, I presume?' she said in a voice laced with nobility and knowledge.

'Yes, High Councillor,' Ronan replied. She gestured for him to take a seat in front of her desk.

'I must say Ronan, I'm impressed. Your ability displayed in your previous college far exceeds any of our new summoners. It is not often I have considered adding a new summoner straight into the Diamond ranks. I think you'll do quite fine here.'

Ronan felt himself smile. The confidence he had from his previous school was helping to settle his nerves, and to hear it from the highest summoner only spurred him on more. 'Thank you, High Councillor.'

'Let's stick to Vessaria for now, Ronan. We're in my study after all. Only refer to me by my title when we're on the Rift. Which I'm sure we'll see each other on soon enough,' Vessaria said with a smile.

'I hope so,' Ronan replied, keeping up his manners and polite tone. First impressions were important, especially in the presence of a summoner of Vessaria's rank.

'But tell me, Ronan. Your magic goes beyond that of common summoning spells, am I correct?'

Ronan nodded.

'How about you show me?' she said.

With a flick of her slender fingers, a small target made of smoke appeared in the air. 'Hit the mark,' she instructed. Ronan stood up and reached into the magical reserve at the back of his mind. He knew which of his powers he was going to show, the one he was most specialised in.

He felt the surge of electricity in his blood, weaving its way up his arm before gathering in his hand. He outstretched his palm, the magic swelling between his fingertips. He let it go, sending five strands of shock lightening at Vessaria's target. Immediately as the lines of electricity impacted the smoke, it dissipated into nothingness.

Vessaria raised an eyebrow. 'Impressive. Elemental magic I see?'

'Yes, Vessaria. Shock is my preferred element. But I can do a few others,' said Ronan. He raised a hand, flicking his thumb like a lighter and igniting a small flame. 'I find fire a little boring. Everyone uses fire magic.' With his free hand he shot a stream of water over the flame to douse it out. 'Water gets a little messy,' he smirked.

Vessaria watched with interest. 'Where did you learn that? Summoning schools wouldn't have taught you that.'

'No, they didn't,' Ronan admitted, still with flecks of magic orbiting his hand. 'I picked it up myself. The mage books I'd find in the school's library and around the marketplaces taught me a great many things,' he replied, secretly finding pride in Vessaria's admiration of his ability. He decided to refrain from showing her his spirit control, for now.

'Now then Ronan,' she said, standing up from the desk. 'There's one last thing I must take care of before you are welcomed as a summoner in the Institute of War.' Vessaria stood from her desk and gestured for Ronan to follow her. He walked around to the other side of the room where the large nexus crystal floated. 'Summoning magic of this level involves complete control and access over one another's minds. In the case of our organisation, you will be looking into the minds of your champion, while at the same time they will be looking into yours. It is how the connection works. I'm sure you're aware of this from your previous training?'

'Yes, Vessaria. It's never really been an issue for me,' he said, inspecting the crystal that hummed with energy.

'Perfect. So you do not mind me simulating the connection to ensure your mind is capable of it? I will see into your memories, but know that this is all conducted in confidence.'

'Of course. Please, go ahead.'

Vessaria smiled a motherly smile, before nodding to the nexus. 'Place your hand on the nexus. I will do the same and then we will be briefly connected. If you complete this without issue—as I'm sure you will—then I will be happy to personally welcome you into the Institute. When you're ready,' she said, placing her hand onto the crystal.

Ronan paused to take a moment to breathe before gently pressing his palm onto the icy smooth surface of the nexus. Instantly, a surge of energy shot into his mind and he felt the presence of the High Councillor amongst his memories. A void swirled in his purple eyes, smoky and unclear. He saw a projection of Vessaria as she sifted through the fog, before flashes of her own past melted into view. Her acceptance as a new summoner, her first match on the rift, her ascension through the ranks until he saw the day she accepted the role of High Councillor. While he felt intrusive seeing into this woman's past, she seemed willing to let him.

Once the echoes of her life faded away into dust, new images started to arise in his mind. Visions of his time in his previous college, the people he met and the creatures he summoned. But nothing more. As the connection tried to delve deeper into Ronan's past it found…nothing. Vessaria seemed confused, but at the same time hesitant to pry further. The initial connection was stable and his recent memories were perfectly intact.

The swirling void faded and Ronan's purple eye's focused back on Vessaria's study. Next to him, the High Councillor was looking at him with intrigue.

'Tell me, have you suffered some sort of injury that caused you to lose many of your memories? There did not seem much to explore in your mind.'

'No,' Ronan said. 'I haven't. I just don't seem to remember much further back than that.'

'I see. Well, please forgive me. Your mind is perfectly capable of controlling the magic we wield here. I'd like to be the first to honour you as our newest summoner,' she said, outstretching a hand for him to shake. He smiled, gripping her hand gently.

'Thank you, Vessaria. It is a great honour.'

'I'm glad you think so. Now, there is one little issue I need to raise with you regarding your residency in the Institute. There has been a mix-up with your accommodation and I'm afraid the original place we had reserved for you is not available. I have done some enquiries however, and I've managed to find you a space.'

'Oh, perfect. Thank you. Where will I be staying?' Ronan asked.

'It's within the champions area, the female champions residences to be precise.'

'Oh,' Ronan said, not sure entirely what to think of it at first. Being so close to the champions was perfect he decided, any chance to begin making connections before his matches on the Rift started was great for his reputation as a summoner.

'Is there a problem with that?' Vessaria asked.

'No, Vessaria. That sounds perfectly fine with me.'

Following his induction with the High Councillor, Ronan was given directions to the female champions living area and ultimately where he'd be staying while his quarters were rearranged. He'd also been provided with a proper set of summoner's robes, meaning that the other summoners wandering the halls of the Institute would finally talk back to him when he asked for help.

He milled around the corridors, hoping that he'd remembered Vessaria's directions correctly. He came down a long hallway, one that was better lit with natural light and decorated with more colour than the others he'd seen. One side opened out into a large outside courtyard filled with green flora and beautiful plants. Ronan could see that in the sky, the sun was setting and he was eager to find his room and get some sleep. He'd already been scheduled for a practice game first thing the next morning.

He stopped while he tried to work out which way to turn past the courtyard when a sultry voice broke him from his thoughts.

'What's this?' the silky feminine voice said. 'I haven't seen  _you_ around here before.' There was girlish giggle accompanying her words as Ronan looked up. He was stunned to see that strutting her way over to him was a beautiful woman with cascading black hair and eyes of bright gold. She wore a thin revealing kimono with a distinctly Ionian design, fitting tightly to the curves of her alluring body. Ronan couldn't help but stare at her, noticing for the first time the nine fluffy white tails that stretched out behind her.

'I was just looking for the female champion's living quarters,' Ronan said honestly, hoping that perhaps she might be able to help him.

'Oh the female quarters? Aren't you a bold little one? Planning to waltz straight in their and capture the hearts of the most gorgeous women in Runeterra, were you? Well how about you start with the one right in front of you. Who might you be to want access to the women's quarters?'

The fox girl strutted right up to Ronan, running a slender finger down his jawline as her almost canine teeth nibbled on her lower lip.

'I'm a new summoner. Just joined. My room isn't ready yet so I'm going to be sharing with the female champions.'

She pursed her lips, golden eyes flaring with a lusty heat as she raised a black eyebrow. 'Oh how I like the sound of that. You're going to cause quite the stir for the girls looking like that. I'll have to fight them off you,' she said with teasing tones and the manicured nails of her hand resting on her chest. 'Or I could just take you for myself right now.'

Ronan was captured by the golden prison of her bright eyes, watching them as they slowly turned a shade of pink and doused with lust. He felt his muscles slowly relax and his senses focus on the smell of the girl in front of him. He longed to touch her, a strange urge to hold her and press his lips to hers. The warmth continued to rise in his core as she did not look away from him.

'There aren't many champions on the rift capable of charm magic,' he said, controlling the urges that she was pushing his body to feel. Instantly, she looked annoyed, pouting her lips as her eyes returned to their normal colour.

'Oh you're good,' she said, still admiring him. 'Even some of the best summoners here struggle to notice the effects of my charm, I'm impressed Summoner…?'

'Ronan,' he replied.

'Call me Ahri,' she said, taking a hold of his hand. 'I'll show you to the female quarters, don't you worry.'

It clicked in Ronan's head. Ahri was notorious amongst the champions for her flirtatious ways. He'd read her story and checked her abilities. Her charm magic was central for any summoner wanting to understand how to control her on the Rift. Maybe he'd have a chance to try her out sometime.

He let himself be dragged by the hand down the hall, admiring the white tails that emerged from Ahri's kimono. Eventually, she pushed a door open, bringing them into a large open area with comfortable looking couches with plush cushions and many doors leading off to other rooms. A large screen was set up at one end, surely to allow the champions to watch the ongoing matches.

'This is the common room,' Ahri announced. 'You'll spend a lot of time here. We definitely do,' she said with a wink. 'Girls! We've got a newbie,' she called out. A few doors opened and some champions poked their heads around their doors.

Ronan recognised a few of them immediately. His time studying the roster of champions was paying off now that he was starting to see them in the flesh. Irelia was the first to leave her room and come down to meet Ronan. She was easy to identify, mainly due to the six floating blades that followed behind her head. With the briefest movement of her hand, they would move to their master's will and swirl effortlessly through the air.

She came to stop in front of Ahri, looking Ronan up and down with baby blue eyes.

'What's this about, Ahri? Why is there a summoner here?' she asked.

'He's going to be staying with us, Irie!' Ahri chirped delightedly.

'I told you not to call me that. The blades might not miss you next time you do,' she said, moving past Ahri to greet Ronan. 'Irelia, Captain of the Ionian Guard, at your service.'

'Ronan,' Ronan replied, shaking Irelia's dainty hand, whilst watching her blades warily.

By the time he had met Irelia, other champions had turned up in the common room. He knew Ashe from the pictures of her he'd seen advertising the Institute, although the outfit she was wearing was totally new to him. She wore a bright red and gold corset that clung to her top half tightly, and her white hair had been curled with a heart clip keeping it together. She wore stockings on her legs and high heeled shoes that clacked on the floor.

Before Ashe had a chance to say hello, another familiar face raced up to Ronan, namely the young pyromaniac Annie.

'Tibbers doesn't like you!' she cried at him. 'He told me to burn you. Don't make me hurt you!' she said, with flames curling in her right hand. Her treasured bear Tibbers hung on her other arm, thankfully not unleashed like Ronan had seen during games on the Rift.

'Woah there, Annie,' Ashe said, taking the little girl by the hand and tugging away from Ronan. 'I'm sure Tibbers didn't say that. You aren't supposed to burn people off the Rift, remember?'

'Oh another summoner getting lost and trying to perve on the female champions, greeeeat,' another voice said, filled with angst. A girl with large fluffy ears much like Ahri's and several feather daggers between her fingers came and sat down lazily on one of the couches in the common room. She twirled the feathers idly around before throwing them so they stuck in the far wall.

'Come on Xayah, he's staying. Come and say hello,' Ahri said. The girl huffed, but showed no interest in coming over.

While Ronan was greeting the many champions, he did not notice that another door had opened and a white-haired girl carrying an extremely oversized sword on her back had come down. She walked past the welcoming party without so much as a look.

'Riven, aren't you going to say hello?' Ashe asked her. The girl turned, her white hair falling over her intense crimson eyes. She quickly looked at Ronan, before turning the door handle.

'I'm going to train,' she said flatly. She hauled her sword away and disappeared down the corridor.

Ahri snorted. 'You won't get much out of her. She's not a people person, Ronan,' she said.

'I see,' he replied. He kept his gaze on Riven as she left down the hall, watching her with interest.

There was definitely plenty to understand in the Institute, and Ronan was ready to learn.


	2. The Rift

**Chapter 2 - The Rift**

Ronan woke early on the first day of his games on the Rift. High Councillor Vessaria had sent the details to him and he'd made sure he was ready in plenty of time. He found his room at the end of the day after spending the evening getting to know some of the girls in the living area. His quarters were basic and functional, with only a few meagre bits of furniture, a large bed and space for him to live. He was sure the other champions had made themselves at home in their own rooms with decorations and mementos of their homelands, but wasn't sure whether he'd be in his room long enough to make it comfortable. The place Vessaria had originally planned for him to stay was still under construction. But still, he hoped he could call the room home for now.

With his summoner's robes on and an eager smile on his face, he left his room to get to his first match. A few of the girls were lounging in the common room when he passed and they glanced up to look at him. Irelia was sat on one of the couches wearing casual clothes, but still with her blades danced in the air behind her. She was chatting with Karma, another champion in the living area that Ronan had met the night before. The Duchess of Ionia smiled at him with warmth in her dark eyes and Irelia gave him a little wave.

'Good luck, Ronan,' he heard her say as he was leaving. He turned to give her a smile and say a quick thank you before he stepped out into the corridor. It was much emptier than it had been the night before when he'd been trying to find his way to the female champion's living area. As pale morning light seeped in through the many windows and the outdoor courtyard, Ronan made his way back into the area populated by the summoners on his arrival.

He found the viewing area for the Rift without much trouble. Vessaria had provided him with a map and since being in the Institute for a while, the winding corridors were starting to make a lot more sense. The High Councillor was waiting for him, hands together in the loose fabric of her long purple robe. She acknowledged him as he arrived, giving a dip of her head in greeting.

'Good morning Ronan. Glad to see your timekeeping skills are better than most of our new summoners,' she said, a small smile breaking through her owl-like features. 'Are you ready for your first time on Summoner's Rift?' she asked.

Ronan smiled. 'Very much so. Need to get familiar with it sooner or later if I'm going to be spending a lot of time there,' he said, looking out at the large projection of the Institute's most famous Field of Justice. The viewing area had a large magically powered representation of the Rift, where audiences could see the action from all angles. Ronan traced his gaze along the three lanes and through the weaving jungle. It was so much vaster than any of the small maps his previous college used. The opportunity for strategy was endless.

'You're impressed,' Vessaria said over his shoulder as he was occupied with the map.

'Definitely. The magic needed to run the fields and the matches is like nothing I've come across.'

'The Institute is a powerful place. One that has been developed by the greatest mages Runeterra has ever seen. It has to be, some of the champions we house here are dangerous. We have to curb their power.'

'I can't wait to try them all out,' Ronan said. He kept going back to the list of the available champions he had and wondered at the hundreds of abilities they all possessed. He knew that while most simply called the Institute their homes, there were some more bestial creatures that called it a prison. Void monsters and demons chained within the bowels of the place. They took someone with a mind of steel to summon and control. It would take him years of practice to work all the champions out, let alone master any of them.

'Yes well, you'll have to increase your reputation as a summoner if you wish to have the entire roster available for you. As a new entry, you'll only have a small selection to choose from to get started with. As you play matches, you'll have the opportunity to use some of the more specialist champions we have here,' said Vessaria.

Ronan thought for a moment, eagerly awaiting the day that he could choose from all the champions. He thought about the girls back at the living quarters and where they fit in. Ashe was one that the newer summoners favoured, that was for sure. Her ability and power level was quite straightforward, as was Annie's. Ahri, Irelia and Xayah were a little trickier. He'd have to work up to them.

'We'd like to get you started with some of the entry level champions today, just to get you used to the games. Come with me,' Vessaria instructed. Ronan followed in behind her as she led him to the main summoning platform. Five large enclosed capsules were set up for the five summoners on the team, and Ronan assumed that across the map there was another identical room for the enemy summoners. Vessaria gestured at one of the capsules, inviting him to stand there.

Once inside, Ronan found himself with a view of the fields that began to swirl in his mind. There was definitely more magic at work and the summoning went beyond simply connecting with an individual champion. It enveloped everything, the connection consumed his entire mind.

'Standing on the summoning platform will immediately begin the process of integrating you in the game. I'm sure you can probably already feel it,' Vessaria said to his left. Ronan couldn't see her anymore as visions of the Rift began to appear before him. 'Every game will start with choosing your champion. You should see the ones available to you.'

Images started to appear of a small selection of champions most of which Ronan was familiar with. Annie was there, as well as the Demacian brute Garen, the tattooed rune mage Ryze and a smattering of others. He noticed Ashe was among them and immediately decided he wanted to try her.

'I'll take Ashe,' he said.

'A good choice. Ashe is favoured among the new summoners. She's nice and simple. We use her for training the initiates as well, although we must update that at some point.'

As Vessaria was talking in his ear, the summoning ritual had begun and Ashe appeared within Ronan's ethereal view of Summoner's Rift. He saw her standing on the fountain wearing the same outfit he'd seen her in when they met the night before, but this time she had her bow in her hand.

' _Ronan, is that you?'_ he heard her ask once their telepathic connection was established.

' _Hey Ashe, yep it's me. Thought you'd be perfect to help me understand how champions work on the fields. You alright to practice with me in this game?'_  Ronan asked.

' _Of course!'_  she said happily, readying herself on the fountain and buying some items. ' _I'll help you through it. Some champions might need some prodding to do things like buy the right items or go to the right places on the map, but you'll get used to them.'_

' _So where do you normally go_?' Ronan asked, looking to his minimap at the three lanes.

' _In the bottom lane usually.'_

'Other summoners are loading in Ronan, ready yourself,' he heard Vessaria say. Before she had even finished speaking, four other champions appeared on the dais.

' _Who else have we got on our team?'_  Ronan asked Ashe. She seemed unperplexed by the sudden appearance of other champions warping into the game.

' _Looks like I'm going to be working with Soraka in the bot lane,'_ she replied. Ronan noticed the staff-wielding celestial, but she looked a little different to how he'd seen her before in her file. Her hair was a pale green and she wore a blue and white dress. Ronan was starting to realise that other outfits were available for summoners to dress their champions in, Ashe's red and white attire being one of them. ' _Then there's Xerath taking mid lane, Skarner's in the jungle and Darius is in the top lane.'_

Most of them were new to Ronan. Only one he had heard of was Darius, but that wasn't even from the League itself. Darius was notorious in his home state of Noxus as an executioner and a warlord on the battlefield. The Noxian invasion of Ionia had been plastered across the news while the campaign had been taking place. Darius' cruel and merciless bloodshed in the island nation was infamous. Ronan was glad he was on their team.

The game started and Ronan began to feel more comfortable with the mental connection. He didn't want to say it while Vessaria was looking over his shoulder, but he picked Ashe as he knew she would be willing to help him and guide him through the game without complaint. Some of the more temperamental champions were sure to give him grief due to his inexperience. He got to grips with controlling the champion in lane and aiding them to get the final hit on minions to increase their gold, while also trading effectively with the enemy team.

The opposing bot lane consisted of Ezreal and Janna. They were tricky for Ronan at first as the Prodigal Explorer's long range abilities were throwing him off, and whenever he tried to fight back the damage was simply negated by Janna's shielding ability. Some calm words from Ashe in his mind helped him to realise the best way to utilise her to respond to their advances. Soraka was proving a great help however in keeping Ronan alive. Her heals covered up any slips he had.

Skarner came into their lane at about ten minutes into the match, and his surprise attack helped them to secure a kill on Janna. Ronan was feeling confident, until they ventured off into the river. Suddenly, Ashe's path became cut off by a wall of stone before a rock erupted from beneath the earth. The damage was enough to send her back to the fountain, her body on the Rift suffering fatal damage.

' _I'm so sorry_ ,' Ronan said hurriedly over their connection once Ashe respawned in the fountain. ' _I didn't know what to do when that wall appeared it was just…I'm sorry,'_  he said, feeling guilty for getting her killed.

' _Don't worry Ronan. I don't think there was much we could have done there. Taliyah's got some strong abilities. Let's just keep going, we're doing well!'_

Ashe's reassuring words in her warming voice kept Ronan focused, but still he had a question lingering in his mind from the experience.

' _Does it…hurt when you die on the Rift?'_  he said hesitantly.

' _It does. But not as much as it would do in real life I'm sure. Don't think too much about it Ronan. It's what the League is about.'_

The match continued to go well for a while, but the enemy team started to group and before long, they found themselves being caught out. The timers in the death chamber were ramping up and so every respawn would cost them several objectives. With forty minutes of the match already on the clock, the two teams were at a stalemate, waiting for the other to make the first move. Awkward silence had come between Ronan and Ashe while they concentrated hard, and the other champions seemed hesitant about making any snap decisions. One misstep would cost the game.

Ronan had his eye on Ezreal. If he could find a way to kill off Ezreal, the rest would fall into place and there would be a clear way into their base. Ezreal was keeping the minions waves from getting too close and it meant there was no room for manoeuvre.

' _Ashe move back a bit. Leave your team for a second,'_ Ronan commanded. He knew she'd be confused by his instructions but hoped she'd trust him.

' _Back? Ronan, why? If I get caught away from the team, this could be over! We don't have vision of their jungler.'_

' _Trust me, Ashe. This will work.'_

He saw she was still a little reluctant, but soon moved back away from the rest of the team.

' _Perfect. They won't see it coming from back here.'_

' _Ronan what are you…'_

' _Fire your ultimate on my mark.'_

Ashe went silent as she waited for his command, her large enchanted crystal arrow gathering in the risers of her bow.

'… _hold it…hold…now, fire!'_

Ashe let the giant arrow fly through the air in the direction of the enemy team. It flew past her allies, soaring over their heads as a shard of true ice leaving behind a trail of frost. Ronan held his breath as he watched it go, predicting its trajectory while also keeping a close eye on the movements of the enemy team. He felt his heart sink as it looked like the enemy team's top laner Shen would take the arrow and leave little more than a graze on the tank. But just as the arrow came into their view, he took a step to the right, leaving a clear path through to Ezreal.

There was little the young explorer could do to stop the arrow from hitting him square in the chest and encasing him in ice. His arcane shift ability couldn't be cast while under the effects of the arrow's stun, and the increased range from Ashe's position had meant the stun was lasting a long time. The summoners on his team saw the opening and their shouts were audible to Ronan from their capsules. Their team moved in.

' _Pick him off Ashe, now!'_ Ronan cried.

A perfectly aimed critical strike hit the stunned enemy carry and with only minimal help from the rest of their team, Ezreal was down. After that, it was just the case of methodically working through the rest of the team. Xerath's arcane barrage picked them off as they ran. The announcer called for an ace.

As the purple light from the exploding nexus blazed before his eyes, Ronan felt the glee settle in his heart. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

' _That was amazing, Ronan!'_ he heard Ashe say before the connection was cut off and the game finished.

Ronan and his fellow summoners were welcomed into the lounge after the game with cheers and open arms. There had been more people than he'd realized watching his first game. Summoners and champions alike had come, all of them finding the tense game to be more than they bargained for.

Ahri ran up to him and grabbed hold of him in a clumsy hug.

'You and Ashe were amazing there Ronan!' she said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. Ronan felt his face grow hot.

'Ha…thanks Ahri. It was a good game,' he replied with a stutter.

More champions and summoners patted him on the back and offered him their congratulations. The crowd parted as the enemy team joined the lounge and Ronan saw Ezreal walking briskly his way. At first Ronan was worried that the young explorer was going to be angry with him, but as he got closer he saw that Ezreal was smiling and his eyes were wide.

'Maaaan! That was crazy. You totally destroyed me in that last fight! I've never had my ass handed to me in a game like that before. Great job,' he said, offering a hand for Ronan to shake. 'Ezreal, by the way.'

'Ronan,' Ronan replied as their hands met.

'Well Ronan, you know I'm not gonna let something like that slip. I'll be straight back to give you another match once I've gotten over this one. Hey, how about you come down to the Piltover workshop some time? You're new right? I'll show you around.'

'That sounds great. See you there.'

Ezreal gave him a friendly nudge on the arm before leaving the lounge. As Ronan turned with the same intention, he bumped straight into Ashe coming the other way. She looked at him, instantly a smile finding its way onto her pale face. She hugged him tight.

'You were amazing,' Ronan said.

'Me?' she replied with a look of disbelief as they broke away. 'What about you with that arrow timing? I've never seen someone hit an arrow of mine so perfectly.'

'Well, you're the one that shot it. It was a great first game, that's for sure.'

'It definitely was.'

'Hey, listen. I'm going to hang out with Ezreal over at the Piltover workshop for a bit, but we'll hang out later though, yeah?'

'We better,' she said, still smiling.

Ronan made it to the Piltover workshop in the late afternoon. The games had taken up most of the day and he was exhausted, but he still really wanted to take up Ezreal's offer of looking around the work space he had. The explorer was very popular and definitely a hub of social activity amongst the champions. Getting to know him better would be great for making connections.

'Ronan, glad you could make it! This way, come meet the boys,' Ezreal said as he walked in. The workshop was a large open space near the male champions' living area with several work benches and shelves littered with hextech equipment. As Ronan walked in, the first thing he noticed was a large mass of yellow hair milling around the worktops. The little yordle carried a wrench in one hand and some sort of device in the other, whilst muttering something about evolution capacitors and hextech injectors.

'Heimer, come say hello,' Ezreal said to the small fuzzy yordle.

'Not now my boy, the eureka moment is not far away! All working according to my formula!' he said in a high pitched voice, jumping up to grab a tool from one of the tables. Ronan noticed that a small rocket was attached to the scientist's back. 'Science cannot be interrupted!'

'Dedicated to his work, our friend Heimerdinger,' Ezreal said.

'And quite the know-it-all,' a smooth male voice said from across the workshop.

'That's Jayce over there,' Ezreal said, pointing to the man working at one of the stations. He had a large hextech hammer laid over the worktop, the hum of energy and sparking electricity emanating from the device. Jayce turned around and pulled his glove off to shake Ronan's hand. 'Piltover's resident heartthrob that one,' Ezreal commented.

'Someone's got to keep the people happy,' Jayce said with a charming smile on his handsome face. 'May as well be a pretty one.'

'What are you working on, Jayce?' Ronan asked, stepping over to inspect the large weapon on the table.

'His pride and joy,' Ezreal said. 'His little baby.'

'Little?' said Ronan. The hammer looked to be taller than him.

'Well little might be an undershot,' Jayce admitted.

'He's compensating,' Ezreal whispered to Ronan. He smirked.

'Damn thing isn't working though. Those modifications I did last night Ez aren't getting enough power. They need a kickstart,' Jayce said, leaning in and probing a hextech spanner into the exposed circuitry.

'Not as clever as you think you are, Jayce? Let me have a look,' said Ezreal, stepping forward and checking over the Defender's work. He poked a finger in to try and move around some of Jayce's wiring before a loud bang sounded and a cloud of yellow imbued smoke rose into the air. Ezreal jumped back in fright.

'Heh…yeah isn't working is it?'

'Let me have a look,' said Ronan. 'You said it needed a power jumpstart, right?'

'Yeah, but we haven't got an energy source here that has enough power to get it going. Not even Mr. Explorer's gauntlet over there is strong enough.'

Ronan leant in and saw the component that needed the energy. He reached into his elemental reserve in the back of his mind and wielded his shock magic. Controlling it in his hand, he waited until it had grown enough to send a powerful surge through the device. As his finger came into contact with it, the whole hammer jolted up into the air. He worried it was going to short circuit again, but in an instant it began to whir with life.

Jayce looked on with wide eyes. 'Woah, what did you do?'

'Just a little bit of shock magic,' Ronan said.

'You can use elemental magic as well? You may as well apply to be a champion,' Ezreal laughed. Jayce picked up his prize hammer with elation.

'I owe you one, that's for sure,' Jayce said. 'I'll get you a drink in the lounge one time.'

'Or wait, I've got an idea,' said Ezreal, running off to rummage through one of the draws in the workshop. He pulled out what looked like a shard of black obsidian, but Ronan saw as he got closer that it was actually a sword. 'Found it whilst I was in Shurima recently. Not sure where exactly it's from or whether its worth anything at all, but here have it.'

Ronan looked at the sword in Ezreal's hands. 'Really? I can have it?' The black edge was sleek and reflected the light. Along the body were several etched runes, though no light shone through them like he'd seen with other swords.

'Yeah take it. Reward for beating me so bad and fixing Jayce's hammer,' said Ezreal.

There was something about it though that made Ronan pause. He felt like he'd seen it before somewhere, but couldn't quite place a finger on it. When Ezreal offered it to him and he held it by the handle, its weight felt familiar. Ezreal could see that he looked slightly dazed.

'You alright, Ronan?'

Ronan broke from staring at the sword. 'Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks Ezreal.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, Geist here.
> 
> Thought I'd chime in as we're a couple of chapters in now. This is a commissioned story that I've been working on recently as a sort of homage to the many summoner x champion stories that existed before the lore got reworked. I'm definitely finding it really refreshing to delve back into using the Institute as a backdrop. I've got plenty of lemons planned for this story so don't worry, they will come. It's not going to be entirely smut based, but will have a fair few citrusy scenes. The aim is to update it weekly, but I am a busy bloke these days so there may be hiatuses.
> 
> With that said, I'd like to say that my commissions are still open for one-shot M/F or F/F smut stories. Just drop me a message if you're interested.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	3. The Exile

**Chapter 3 – The Exile**

Ronan sat on the edge of his bed. A half moon had risen in the night sky outside his window, hiding behind the wisps of thin cloud. The nights were drawing in and the summer days were soon fading into memory. But his mood was not downcast with the coming of winter. His time at the Institute was proving to be everything that he had hoped for and the champions had made him feel very welcome already.

He thanked whoever’s fault it was for not getting his room ready in time. The girl’s dormitory was so much better. He’d see the female champions he shared the living space with in the morning as they cooked and ate breakfast, he’d laugh and joke with them on the couches in the common room and there was always someone he could strike up a conversation with. He started to show off his powers a little bit, more so for humour’s sake than anything else. Toasting the top of Irelia’s pancakes or squirting water in Annie’s face when she threatened to lob a fireball at his head. It was all part of being in their group.

He smiled as he thought of the fun he’d had already within the ranks of the summoners, but his mind was still rushing with confused thoughts. Resting in the palms of his hands as he sat on the edge of his bed, Ronan looked over the strange black sword Ezreal had given him that afternoon. Every time his eyes wandered along the curve of its edge, he found himself feeling that the reason it felt familiar would come to him, like a name on the tip of his tongue. But he never was able to work it out. The runes, though carved from bright green stone, did not hum with any life and remained dead and empty. The blade itself however, was quite vicious. He’d already tried it out a couple of times with a few practice swings and Ahri had managed to nick her finger with it when he’d left it out one time.

The sword seemed to call to him, and Ronan felt ready to answer it. His elemental powers were who he was, but having an iconic weapon by his side would make him stand out a little more. _If only I knew how to use it_ , he thought to himself with a sigh. He was no Master Yi with a blade, not a practiced and disciplined swordsman. He was a mage with no understanding of the weapon. He’d have to learn, and with the connection this particular sword was giving him, it had to be soon.

Ronan stood up quickly, settling into a stance with the sword levelled in front of him. His eyes, though not trained for swordsmanship, kept the blade perfectly in line. He gave a it a swing, feeling it cut beautifully through the air. The metal itself was sleek and thin and took little effort to move. He spun around and sent another cut at an imaginary enemy behind him, almost grazing his bed with the tip. There wasn’t enough space in his room to train.

Ronan moved towards the door, thinking that a little more exploring of the Institute was in order. Forgetting that it was the middle of the night, Ronan quietly left his room making sure the door didn’t make too much noise as it closed. He walked through the corridor and down the few stairs into the common room. A few bags of half-eaten snacks sat on the table and some empty glasses were strewn around from one of Ahri’s many get-togethers she regularly hosted.

Leaving the residency, Ronan found himself in an eerily quiet hallway leading into the main part of the Institute. He consulted his map as he left, trying to find the right place among the maze of rooms on the page. He’d heard about the training rooms from Irelia as she quite often spent her mornings there. She had offered to show him. He wished he’d taken her up on the that offer now.

With the sword sheathed under his robe in a thin scabbard he had been given, he continued in what he hoped was the right direction. Beyond the summoning chambers and the magical space that contained the several fields the games were played on was the training grounds. An area of the Institute dedicated to developing each and every skill required in being a summoner or a champion.

Stepping into this new section of the complex, Ronan made a point to stay away from any of the rooms that required the manipulation of magic to run their simulations. It wasn’t the time to be meddling with summoning magic or training some portion of his arcane ability. That was asking for trouble. Most of the rooms needed security access for him to get in anyway, which he didn’t have just yet. Perhaps Vessaria would be willing to show him around them one time. Ronan decided to keep his sights set on the physical training rooms. Gyms and dojos were available for the champions to continue to hone their skills with their chosen weapons or have a space to simply work out.

Ronan had never really taken the time to get into using a gym regularly. The place was normally populated by the kind of people he didn’t want to associate with at his previous college. People more interested in vanity than discipline in their training. But he had always wanted to find a place he could train that was quiet and isolated. Most of the exercise he did to stay in shape was conducted in the privacy of his bedroom.

The amount of rooms in the Institute meant that they couldn’t all be occupied, especially not in the middle of the night. He opened a door into what he assumed would be a sword training room judging by the emblem on the door, and sure enough when he entered he could hear the clang of steel. He was a little put out that his solitude was going to be interrupted, but he didn’t want to be impolite.

As he turned the corner though, he caught a flash of white hair and the swing of a greatsword aimed at a training dummy’s head. With a shout of exertion, the dummy suffered a fatal blow as the giant sword cleft it straight down the middle, sending straw innards spewing onto the floor. Ronan watched as the sword was reset back and its wielder stood at ease. He recognised her as she turned and shot him a glare with intense crimson eyes. Strands of platinum hair had fallen over her face and a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.

‘Oh…I’m sorry,’ Ronan said, slightly unnerved as she stared at him. ‘I’ll go somewhere else.’

‘No,’ she said flatly, halting him as he went to move. He saw her hard expression fall as the sword in her hand fell to her side. ‘Come in. There’s enough room in here for us both. Ronan was hesitant to step beyond the threshold and into the training room, but eventually she took a step back to allow him in.

Ronan was wary as he made it into the room and found a space with some unused training dummies to practice on. He wanted to give Riven enough space, while staying close enough to hopefully strike up a conversation with her. Since seeing her on his first day, Ronan was fascinated by the quiet solitary life she lived. As he got ready to train, he felt a little awkward knowing that Riven’s eyes were still upon him as he drew the blade from the sheath under his robe. The sword still felt a little clumsy in his grip and he had little idea of how to actually use it. Riven was an expert, he knew that from her champion description and she’d immediately notice him being a novice.

He settled himself into a made-up combat stance and tentatively gave a few practice swings in the vague direction of the dummy. His first swing made the blade connect at an odd angle and lodge itself in the straw body of the dummy. He had to yank it out before he could take another swing. Riven hadn’t resumed her training and was obviously watching him with judging eyes.

‘It was Riven, wasn’t it?’ Ronan asked, trying to bring up a conversation to keep her from analysing his inexperienced sword work too much. He saw her nod her head briefly. She had a much shyer temperament than most of the women he’d encountered, especially girls like Ahri who were throwing themselves at anyone they met. Riven was calm and collected, but seemed timid amongst company. He didn’t want to scare her, but the silence between them was becoming awkward.

‘You’re Ronan,’ she eventually said. ‘You’re sharing our quarters, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right,’ Ronan replied. ‘Though I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you yet.’

Riven looked away from him, crimson eyes falling to the floor. ‘I’m not there much, or if I am I prefer to be in my room.’

Ronan went back to his improvised training regime, but found every swing he tried the sword kept getting stuck in the dummy and he had to clumsily pull it out before trying for another swing. As he went to try again, Riven stopped him by placing a hand on the cross guard of the blade.

‘Try it like this,’ she said calmly, standing by his side. With her hand guiding his, she brought the blade up and then allowed it to glide through the air at a more natural angle, lightly grazing the dummy’s chest but still with enough force to cut a deep slice right through the material. She was only guiding his hand slowly through the air, but the sword had left a huge mark.

‘Woah,’ he said in surprise at how much damage he’d caused.

‘It’s not the blade to be hacking with,’ she said. Her finger slid up along the curve of its edge. ‘You’ve got to be lighter with a sword like this. Work on getting your technique down before you try and build speed into it. If you want to chop through your enemies like a woodcutter, you need a sword like mine,’ she said, bringing up her broken greatsword for him to look at. It was as wide as a shield with a large metal handle as long as Ronan’s arm. The blade itself appeared to be made of dark stone with carved green runes. They looked similar to the markings on his own sword, but hers were pulsing and beating with life.

Before he had more of a chance to look at it, Riven had swung her arm in a wide arc, perfectly cleaving the dummy’s head off in a brutal strike. It hit the floor and rolled to touch the edge of Ronan’s boot.

‘Wow,’ he said, more to himself. Riven didn’t exactly appear hugely strong, but she swung the heavy blade like it was made of air. Sure, her body was toned and military fit from the quick glances he’d shot her way, but the strength she possessed was more like that of a man twice her size. Riven walked over to a small rune symbol on the wall and with a simple press, the dummies all magically repaired themselves.

‘I can’t even imagine the damage you could do with that sword when it was full size. How did it break?’ Ronan asked. The shattered remain that Riven wielded told stories of a blade that must have been nearly seven feet in length. As he spoke though, Riven started to look uncomfortable. She held the sword tightly in her grip, laying a hand on its side as if to keep it safe.

‘I…I broke it myself,’ she said with a stutter in her words. ‘A long time ago.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘To cover up her own weakness,’ a deep masculine voice said from the doorway. Ronan immediately span around to see the hulking form of a large man stood at the entrance. Leaning against the doorway, the man was bulging with muscles, his black hair slicked back with a streak of grey at the front. These were all indications to Ronan as to who it was interrupting their conversation, but the presence of a hugely large axe by his side was the main give away.

Darius stomped into the room, ditching his usual war-worn Noxian armour for light training attire. Ronan felt himself falter as the giant man advanced on him. The black sword was still poised within his grasp, yet he knew he’d never be prepared to use it. Especially not against a champion like Darius. While he knew most champions wouldn’t try attacking a summoner in the Institute, he wasn’t sure when it came to someone as infamous as the Hand of Noxus. He sensed Riven standing behind his shoulder.

‘Still you won’t let go of that worthless splinter of a weapon,’ Darius said, his dark eyes aimed at Riven and a scowl on his face. ‘Shattered and broken. Just about as effective as it looks. Much like it’s owner.’

‘It is what I am Darius, a part of me. I’d be a fool to let go of my past,’ said Riven, glaring back with her fringe across her eyes. ‘But I am not _that_ anymore. I’ve moved on from what Noxus did to me. One day you might see what it has done to you too.’

Darius gave a deep bellowing laugh. ‘Look at you with your sword broken and the remains of Noxian armour sitting on your shoulder. You’re a mockery of what you used to represent, Riven. To think we saw strength in you,’ he tutted. ‘Until you give up on your mindless soul-searching and answer for your desertion, you’ll never find an ounce of peace.’

With his aggressive words, Darius took another step forward, and with it Ronan took another step to cover Riven and stand in the warlord’s path.

‘Relax Darius. The Institute isn’t the place for past grudges,’ said Ronan. Darius looked at him with disgust.

‘And what would some lowly summoner know of Noxus? Stop running your mouth on other people’s business. Don’t stand up for something you nothing about, boy.’

Ronan gripped the black blade tight in his grip. Darius looked down at it and snorted.

‘What are you going to do with that thing? Poke me? You couldn’t wield a weapon if you tried, weakling. Stick to your poncey magic. Leave the weapons to the strong,’ said Darius, hauling the massive axe into the air as if to prove a point. ‘Now, stand aside and let me speak with my countryman. She has a lot to answer for.’

‘Riven doesn’t want to talk to you, nor do we want a fight,’ Ronan struggled to keep any power in his words while faced with the Noxian brute, but he did it for Riven’s sake.

With nothing more than a disapproving harrumph, Darius stood forward and pushed Ronan aside with a meaty hand. Ronan raised the black sword in his grip, attempting to threaten the possibility of a strike. Darius reacted immediately, swinging his axe in a wide arc and catching the sword in the crook of the axe’s curve. It seized the weapon from Ronan’s grip, disarming him and sending his blade clattering across the training room floor.

‘Now, out of my way worm,’ Darius said and beat Ronan hard in the chest with the pommel of the massive axe. Ronan felt all the air leave his lungs and his ribs felt like they had shattered from the impact. Darius stomped on past him in Riven’s direction. She didn’t run or try and move but held her ground and stared him straight in the eye.

‘You showed up here to speak with me, yet you still bring this idiot for protection? You’re worse than I thought,’ Darius said, grabbing Riven by the jaw. ‘Whoring yourself out to summoners.’

‘I didn’t do anything of the sort. I don’t even know this summoner. I just came to train,’ said Riven tightly, not struggling in Darius’ grip but holding her resolve in his presence.

‘Ready your weapon then,’ Darius challenged her, his axe shifting impatiently in his grip. ‘Let’s train.’

Riven held her sword by her side, but kept it pointed to the ground. ‘I’m not fighting you Darius. You don’t have to resort to using force to get what you want, that’s just what Noxus drilled into you. There’s more to strength than winning a fight,’ Riven said.

Darius’ eyes were filled with rage at her speaking to him, especially lecturing him on the topic of strength. The Noxian mantras could not be broken in Darius’ mind, any deviation was weakness. Riven yelped as he backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling on the floor. With her hand covering the flaring red mark on her cheek, Darius leant down and pulled her up to look at him by the collar of her wrappings.

‘Don’t you dare think you are in any place to talk to me about strength, deserter. I know weakness, I see it right here,’ he said. With a booted foot, he kicked Riven hard in the stomach. She cried out again. ‘See? I know what you are, girl. Nothing. Broken like that sword you mindlessly swing.’

Darius went to hit her again, but as he raised his hand his body immediately seized up in convulsing shakes. His axe made a thunderous clang as his grip was lost and it hit the ground.

Ronan’s hand was outstretched with flickers of electricity still dancing around his fingertips. The surge of shock magic he’d sent Darius’ way had stopped him hitting Riven, but once he recovered from the shakes he turned to Ronan with red anger flaring in his eyes.

Ronan had little time to react whilst still clutching his ribs on the floor of the training room. Darius’ fist met him square in the temple sending black spots across his vision. He could hear Darius yelling curses at him before he felt the large man stomp past him in the direction of the exit.

His vision continued to blur, but he made out Riven’s white hair as she came to stand over him.

But then, everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4 - Better Healing

**Chapter 4 – Better Healing**

***Short lemon at the end of this chapter**

Ronan’s vision blurred and his body felt broken, but he knew he’d been carried away after blacking out. His head throbbed from the impact of Darius’ fist and he could feel his own blood running slowly down his face. With each pulse of his heartbeat, he felt the pain hit him again as if for the first time.

He knew it was Riven who had picked him up. Her white hair tickled his cheek as she lifted him up and his face was lost in the wrappings she wore as she carried him away. Her arms were strong and his weight was hauled in her grip through the Institute until they made it back into the female living quarters. By which time, Ronan had passed out again.

It was not until pale light seeped in through the window that Ronan stirred and finally woke up. He was laying in a comfortable bed identical to his own, but as he opened his eyes and looked around, he noticed that the room itself was unfamiliar. The walls were decorated with a few tapestries, some bearing the wings of the Noxian emblem. The room was more furnished than Ronan’s, with a large wardrobe and a chest of drawers. It felt more like someone had lived there a long time compared to Ronan’s room. There was more character to its space and felt more welcoming. On the far wall, still humming with a little bit of life was Riven’s broken greatsword.

He groaned as he woke, the pain in his body returning. Riven came across the room and perched herself by the bedside. He looked up at her, finding her wearing the same clothes as before and appeared to have not slept at all. He tried to speak but found he couldn’t really make any words come out of his mouth, just incoherent mumblings.

‘Shh,’ he heard Riven say softly. Wringing out a cloth, she dabbed it to Ronan’s forehead and the wound on his face. He tensed as the contact of the wet cloth met the raw skin, but the coolness of the water was soothing to his pain. ‘Don’t try and move.’

Riven’s voice helped him slip back into a dreamless sleep as the balm on his wounds willed his mind to rest. When he awoke again, the morning light had turned orange with the day glow. He didn’t know exactly how much time had passed. Looking to his side, Riven was gone. He gazed blearily around the room in search, until he saw her from behind stood by the doorway. She was holding the door open and talking with someone. Once his vision had focused, he saw it to be Soraka with her staff in hand. Riven allowed the Starchild into her room.

Soraka stepped up to the bed, kneeling down and studying Ronan’s injuries. ‘Soraka?’ he said. She gave him a warming smile, but didn’t say anything back. Riven looked over the Starchild’s shoulder.

‘Soraka’s going to heal your injuries Ronan, but you’re still going to have to stay there for a while.’

‘Why?’ he asked weakly, as Soraka leant down to inspect the graze on his forehead more closely.

‘The healing process will take longer than the instantaneous healing you experienced on the Rift. My magic is not quite that efficient without the aid of the Rift’s augments,’ Soraka said in her tranquil voice. ‘You’ll still need to take some time to rest and gain back your full strength.’

Ronan was a little disappointed at the news, choosing to huff and shift uncomfortably in Riven’s bed.

‘Alright, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘Go ahead.’

Soraka gave another gentle smile, before raising her staff and lightly touching her hand to Ronan’s forehead. Immediately, Ronan felt a surge of energy emanating from her touch and his skin started to tingle.  She repeated the same process on his chest, Ronan wincing from the pressure on his cracked ribs. He couldn’t deny that the warmth of the Starchild’s hand on his bare skin gave a pleasurable sensation, but the course of the magic soothing his broken skin was even more gratifying.

There was a long silence while Soraka worked. Her vibrant eyes had closed in concentration while green energy swirled around her hands and the top of her staff. Riven watched with both interest and concern from over her shoulder, and every now and then Ronan’s purple eyes would meet Riven’s crimson.

Soraka stood up once she was finished, appearing as if the use of her magic had somewhat weakened her. ‘You should start to feel better now, Ronan. The magic will take away the pain and speed up the healing process tenfold. Just let it do its work and you will be on your feet in no time.’

‘Thank you, Soraka,’ Ronan replied, trying his best to sit up in the bed. Riven pointed firmly at him.

‘Lie back down, I’m not having you hurt yourself again,’ the white-haired girl said. She turned to the Starchild. ‘How long do you think it will take for him to get completely better? So that no one can notice he was injured at all.’

Soraka furrowed her brow as she considered the question. ‘Probably another twelve hours. By tomorrow morning there won’t be a scratch. The magic will start slow while he is weak, but will grow with good rest.’

Riven smiled and gave a nod of her head. ‘Thanks Soraka. You’ve really helped us both out. I owe you a favour.’

‘Think nothing of it Riven. But may I ask, what did happen for Ronan to sustain such injuries?’

Riven and Ronan looked awkwardly at one another and neither was sure whether to speak up. Before Ronan could say anything, Riven spoke up.

‘A silly misunderstanding. But I would appreciate you not telling anyone about this, Soraka. It would only cause unnecessary trouble.’

‘Of course, Riven. Forgive me for being nosy.’ Soraka gave a dip of her head and turned to leave. ‘I hope you make a quick recovery Ronan.’

‘Thank you again, Soraka,’ Ronan said with a polite smile, already beginning to feel the effects of the magic coursing through him. He felt strong enough to stand and move around, but Riven’s insistence on him resting kept him in bed.

‘It is my pleasure, Ronan. You can always come to me for aid.’

Riven opened the door for Soraka and the Starchild stepped into the hall. Once she had left, Ronan looked to Riven who came and sat by his bed again.

‘Why can’t Soraka know it was Darius? Why can’t she tell anyone? We could get him reported to Vessaria for what he did. We didn’t provoke him, he just attacked,’ said Ronan.

‘I had already asked Darius to come and talk with me that night. He was surely going to be on a short fuse considering what there is between us. Noxus wants me to answer for my crimes. For deserting them and exiling myself. They would see me executed for what I did,’ said Riven, her hands wringing uncomfortably in her lap.

‘That’s barbaric. It’s been years since you were a part of Noxus, right?’

Riven nodded, but also gave a slight shrug. ‘It’s how Noxus is. It’s how their society is built. Desertion is more than a terrible crime to them. It’s weakness.’

‘But not worthy of death. So Darius wanted to negotiate terms with you about that?’

Riven gave a weak laugh. ‘Perhaps “negotiate” is an optimistic word. I think he actually wanted me to drag me by the neck to General Swain and have me confess then and there. You must see though Ronan, it’s the Institute that’s keeping me safe from that. With the status I have as a champion, the crimes of my past and the politics of Noxus do not affect me. While here, they can’t touch me. If I reported what Darius did and for whatever reason I ended up being accused myself, I could lose that status. They could throw me out and I’d be free for them to haul me to the executioner. It’s best that it remains secret, trust me.’

‘If you’re sure, Riven. I wouldn’t want to do anything that put you at risk,’ said Ronan, shifting in the bed. He kept glancing down at the bruising on his sides where his ribs had been hit, running a hand over the sore skin to feel whether the magic was stopping the pain. It still stung, but even from Soraka having healed him only minutes ago, it was much better already.

‘Stay here. Don’t go outside of this room in case anyone spots you. Even if it’s getting better, it still looks pretty bad. I don’t want people asking questions, especially someone like Ahri. Half the Institute will know if she found out,’ said Riven, standing up and heading across the room. She walked over to her greatsword that was hanging on the far wall. As her hand came into contact with the hilt, the green runes pulsed with life. ‘I’ve got a couple of matches today, but I’ll be back later. You better still be here when I get back and not wandering around the Institute,’ she said sternly.

‘If you insist,’ Ronan said, slightly disappointed that he had to spend the entire day staying away from everyone on his own.

‘I do insist. There’s food in the other room. Take whatever you want. I’ll be back later.’

~

Ronan found the day passed very slowly once Riven had left. He allowed himself time to rest on Riven’s orders, but found once Soraka’s magic had mostly taken its course, he became restless and bored of lying in bed. He got up and though it made him feel nosy, he wandered around Riven’s home inspecting how the Exile lived.

Her home was tidy and fairly minimal in the possessions she seemed to have. The simpler life was reflected in the empty cupboards and wardrobe. Riven apparently owned no items to remind her of special people in her life, nor had anything from her childhood. Everything was functional and played a role in maintaining the hard exterior she displayed in the Institute.

Eventually Ronan became hungry and went in search of food. As expected, the refrigerator and food shelves had minimal offerings. Just basics like bread, cheese and some meat but even they had been reduced down to the size of military rations.

_Never allows herself a moment of enjoyment, does she?_ Ronan thought as he walked aimlessly back into her bedroom and sat on the bed. He sighed, finding that he was still rather bored. He glanced up to the wall where a stand had been attached for Riven’s ludicrously large sword to sit on the wall. Below it, there was a bookshelf that Ronan had not been able to see from the bed. A few large tomes were stacked up against the wall, all old and dusty.

He picked the first one up, finding it to be a military strategy guide concerned with the tools and weapons of war. _The Warhosts of Noxus: A Guide to Noxian Steel_ , Ronan read on the cover. Riven obviously wasn’t one for story books. The other books looked like more of the same.

He flicked through the pages, scanning over the large amounts of text without actually reading anything. There were pencil drawings of many swords and shields used by the Noxians over the ages, most of which bore some resemblance to the weapons Ronan had seen Noxian champions wielding on the fields. He turned a page and saw a drawing of a sword very similar to Riven’s, with the same carved runes along its side. There was a section on how the runes were used and Ronan began to read.

_“The Noxian sorcery runes often built into the framework of the blackstone greatswords were actually ancient Ionian in their design and took many hours of Noxian research to discover how to contain their magic within the blades. Ionia refused to be associated with the project.”_

_Ionian, huh?_ Ronan thought to himself. He found his black sword in its sheath by the bedside and pulled it out. The runes on it looked so similar to the ones in the drawing and on Riven’s sword, but the language they were written in was slightly different. Maybe a variation of the Ionian language. Ronan was eager to find out exactly why this sword had such an effect on his mind. Perhaps he would speak with Irelia or Karma and see if they knew anything about it.

The sound of Riven’s front door opening broke him from his thoughts and Riven came in. Her face was slightly and covered with a film of dried sweat. Her white hair was unkempt and messy and she was obviously tired. She didn’t pay Ronan much attention aside from a quick nod and made straight for the bathroom.

Ronan listened to the shower running while waiting to talk with Riven, with hope that she’d let him leave. His injuries weren’t noticeable anymore, even he was starting to forget about them. But when Riven emerged from the steam of the bathroom, his thoughts were directed elsewhere.

Riven stepped out having lost her usual wrappings and remains of her Noxian armour and began to sort through her drawers wearing only a pair of shorts and some bandages wrapped around her chest. She didn’t seem bothered at by Ronan’s presence in her state of undress and carried on without caring.

‘Good matches?’ Ronan asked, attempting to engage the Exile who up until then had not said a word to him.

‘Frustrating,’ she stated flatly, pulling something out from one of the drawers. She turned to him and Ronan struggled to keep his gaze from tracing the gentle muscles in her stomach and the many scars that littered her tanned skin. The wrappings she usually wore didn’t flaunt the femininity in her form, but there was no hiding it while her skin was on show. ‘We came back from losing the early game pretty hard, but still it felt like I was surrounded by idiots. We could have been miles ahead if the mid laner and jungler didn’t keep getting caught out. I was the only one warding it seemed,’ Riven said, throwing her clothes from the day in the laundry.

‘If it’s any consolation, I didn’t leave at all. Been here all day,’ said Ronan politely with a smile. Riven stopped what she was doing and looked at him. A smile broke through her hard exterior and for a moment, Ronan was struck by the thought of how attractive it made her look.

She walked over and sat next to him on the bed. Her crimson eyes were glancing at what was in his hand, noticing it to be the Noxian military book. His black sword was also still in one hand.

‘I’m guessing that sword isn’t yours considering how you were swinging it last night. Not something you’ve trained with before?’ she asked. Ronan laughed, looking at the blade.

‘I’m not a swordsman, I’m a mage,’ he said. ‘I haven’t got the first idea how to use something like this. But Ezreal gave it to me as a present and for some reason I can’t get it out of my head. These runes seem familiar, but I don’t know what they say.’

Ronan offered the sword to Riven who slipped it out of its sheath and looked it over.

‘These aren’t Noxian runes, although they have been styled to look that way. Looks more Ionian to me,’ she said, handing the blade back to him.

‘Yeah. I was thinking of asking Irelia about them. If I can just find out why this sword has meaning to me, I might be able to work out a bit more about myself,’ Ronan said, finding his word hanging a little heavier in the air than he meant. Riven listened intently and noticed his despondence.

‘More about yourself? You must know where you came from,’ she said. Ronan gave a shake of his head.

‘I can go back to my old school days, but past that there’s just…nothing. Like my head’s been wiped somewhere along the line. I can’t make any connections. This sword’s been the first thing I’ve come across that stands out to me. I’ve got to find out where it came from.’

‘Didn’t Ezreal say?’

‘He said he found it in Shurima. But it definitely isn’t Shuriman, and the amount of stuff that gets smuggled through the desert means it could have come from anywhere,’ said Ronan.

‘I guess so…’ Riven said, sounding as if she had fallen into thought, but soon an awkward silence stretched between the two of them. ‘I…wanted to thank you again for what you did last night,’ Riven finally said into the quiet as they sat side by side. ‘With Darius.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ Ronan said with a smile. Riven shifted on the bed so she was turned towards him, shuffling a bit closer. She tugged on his arm so that he looked at her directly.

‘I do think something of it, Ronan,’ she said with more power in her words and a new intensity in her crimson eyes. Ronan met the stare, his own purple eyes sinking into their deep colour. ‘No one in all the years I’ve been here has done something like that, let alone stand up for me on their own terms. It…it meant a lot.’

Ronan could see that Riven’s hand had reached from his and soon the warmth of her fingers was resting on the back of his palm. He shifted himself as to hold onto her properly, his hand coming up to support her shoulder.

‘I may not know you well enough yet Riven, but I wouldn’t have left you to Darius. Even to an outsider it was clear you were being harassed by him. I don’t care what happened in your past with Noxus. That doesn’t mean anything to me,’ Ronan said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

Riven smiled again from behind her white fringe that had fallen in front of her eyes. Ronan was happy to see her show a better mood and was intending to go back to his room, before Riven held onto him tightly with her grip finding its way around his neck. Before Ronan had any chance to react, Riven had pulled him into a kiss.

The angle was awkward in the way that they were sitting on the bed, but immediately Ronan fell into the sensation of his lips pressed to Riven’s. Hers were softer than he had expected and Ronan enjoyed the feeling of her close to him. He could smell the freshness of her skin from the shower and his hand wandered down to settle on her bare side.

The kiss grew more passionate and though Ronan’s mind was seized in the moment, he found no resistance in letting Riven do as she pleased. Before long, she had fallen back onto the bed, her head hitting the pillow. Still with their lips locked, Ronan crawled over her, engaging in another round of duelling her lips. In the briefest moment where they finally broke away, Ronan’s gaze washed over her face, finding her to carry all the savage beauty of a warrior.

‘I hoped you’d enjoy that,’ she whispered to him with his face only inches away from hers. Ronan looked like he’d been slapped in the face.

‘I think we need to do it again just so I can be sure it happened,’ Ronan replied. Riven giggled, her hand on his jaw and closing the gap between them again. While he was distracted with the kiss, Riven tugged him around so that their positions were switched and it was Ronan who was laying on the bed with Riven on top of him. She locked her thighs around his legs, sitting in his lap. Instinctively, Ronan’s hands wandered over the smoothness of her middle before daring to settle around her rear.

His mind raced with nervous and anxious energy, but was determined to enjoy the moment and please whatever it was that Riven expected from him. There was a fire in her crimson eyes, sultry yet loving as she leant down and kissed him again, this time trailing her lips down his neck. He twitched at her hands that had slipped under his shirt and were attempting to pull it off of him. It came off, bearing his lean muscled torso to Riven’s eyes. He felt self-conscious at being so exposed to her, but the hunger in her gaze told him all he needed to know. She was enjoying it.

With her still in his lap, Ronan raised himself up to hold her around the small of her back. He pulled at her bandaged chest where they were tied behind her back and it fell free, revealing her breasts in full. Covered in a few scars, Riven’s breasts were larger than they had appeared and were just as tanned as the rest of her. Hesitantly, with his heart beating in his ears, Ronan met the peak of her right breast with his mouth. Riven jolted with the pleasure and let out a small mew at his tongue running circles over her nipple. He palmed the other breast before slipping beneath her shorts.

The movements seemed a little too much for Riven who pulled away, pressing a hand to Ronan’s chest and pushing him down to the bed. His mind then became aware at her fingers fishing into his pants and brushing against his erection that had grown in their activity.

‘Wait…Riven,’ he stopped her. She looked at him. ‘I’ve never done this before,’ he admitted. He was worried about whether he should tell her, wondering if it would at all be seen as a problem. She leant down to him.

‘Just tell me if you want to stop,’ was all she said before going back to him and pulling the clothes of his bottom half to free his hardening cock.

If any words had come to him, they were soon silenced by the feeling of Riven’s warm hands around his head, slowly stroking his length and running a thumb over the tip. He felt the pleasure growing immediately, doubly so from the fact it was Riven who was doing it.

Her talented hands had his peak threatening to arrive within minutes, but he took her attention away by grasping her full breasts with both hands and massaging them in his grip. Riven soon succumbed to his ministrations, finding the shorts on her legs obstructing her pleasure. She kicked them off, wasting no time in taking a hold of Ronan’s manhood and rubbing it along the folds of her slit. Before Ronan was given much time to prepare himself for what was about to happen, he felt the overpowering warmth of Riven around his length. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath, until Riven’s ass hit his legs and he was buried inside of her.

He almost found that he had no more energy left to move, but soon Riven began to make slowly movements. Even the slightest rise and fall of her hips sent shots of pleasure through Ronan’s body. The sensations were new and amazing, and Riven’s gentle moans with every pass were all the indication he needed that everything was right. He took the initiative to thrust up into her as their skin met, and soon he resumed his place sat up with his arms wrapped around her. He met her mouth again with a round of kisses, gripping her tight as he increased their speed.

His peak was becoming too hard to hold back, the speed of their lovemaking and the heat of her core too much to bear. With a breathless groan escaping his lips, Ronan released inside of her, feeling every muscle tense and contract. Riven mewled and sighed, as not so soon after Ronan felt her folds clamp down on his manhood.

The two were left with breathy pants passing between them. Riven was still sat atop his lap like a throne, gazing into his purple eyes that had hazed over in lust. She smiled and let out another laugh as she pressed her lips to his forehead.

‘How was that?’ she asked. Ronan struggled to form the right words. Or any words for that matter.

‘That…was great,’ he finally managed to splutter out, looking at her beautiful face with platinum hair sticking slightly to her forehead. He gave her one final kiss before they toppled back. Riven yanked at the sheets of her bed, pulling them over their naked bodies as they fit together in the bed. Ronan held onto Riven’s waist, his face nestled in her shoulder as she turned out the light and they drifted into a contented sleep.

 


End file.
